


Amour Dangereux

by ironiclittlebaby



Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballet, Bodyguard, Fluff and Angst, Forbidden Love, Guns, Implied Smut, Larry is his bodyguard, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Russian Mafia, Sal doesn't care about gender, Sal is the heir to the russian mafia, Secret Relationship, Smoking, This thing is FULL of titanic references if you squint, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, it's super gay, lots of physical contact
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-24 05:18:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17698379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironiclittlebaby/pseuds/ironiclittlebaby
Summary: “En sa beauté gît ma mort et ma vie.” – Maurice ScèveSal was going to be the death of him. Not just because of his stubbornness, his sass, and his alluring bitterness towards existence.But because of the guns constantly pointed at his head. And the cars constantly attempting to run him over. And the millions of dollars in his bag.





	1. Part One

**Amour Dangereux**

**Part One**

“Are you ready to head out?” Larry asked, zipping up his thick leather jacket lined with Kevlar. His long, cascading hair was tied up in a ponytail, and his brown eyes scanned the dark hotel room to look over at the other boy in the room.

He was exponentially shorter than the other. His own hair was loose, falling around him like an aqua waterfall. And he wore a simple, haunting mask - prosthetic- over his face. “As ready as I can be.” He was not like the other, taller boy. The tall one was dressed in a utilitarian fashion. This one, with the blue mane that framed his plastic face, looked like he was about to go clubbing with a bunch of college students. Booty shorts, fishnets, high boots, a tank top. His broad shoulders and pale toned arms were in full view, practically glowing in the city lights that poured in through the cracked window.

“You’re going to freeze to death, Sal.” The brunette said. “At least put on a jacket. Or something.”

Sal rolled the one shining blue eye he had left. “Whatever. Can we just go?” He picked up his designer backpack and slipped it on. Everything he was wearing cost more than what Larry’s first apartment did.

Larry sighed and grabbed his duffle bag before starting towards the hotel door. “You are such a brat sometimes.” He held out his arm for Sal to hold onto. Sal reached out and grabbed him, grazing his leather-clad arm with long cat-like acrylic nails. Larry still couldn’t fathom how on earth he was able to function with those. “Stay close, okay? And keep your head down.”

“I know, I know.” Sal leaned closer into the other. “Where’s the new car?”

“It should be right outside on the curb. Keys were slipped in at midnight.” He pat his pocket. “Be smart, princess. Let’s go.”

It was the early hours of the morning. The hotel halls were hauntingly silent, and so was the traffic outside. The city was bright yet quiet, settling a feeling of unease into the stomachs of the two boys. Sal walked even closer to Larry, nearly tripping him with his sharp heels. They both shared a look in the elevator. It was obvious. They weren’t alone. They were being watched.

From where? Who knows. From who? They had a suspicion. There last few run-ins were from the Italian mob, trying to take Sal out because of some odd mis-trade in the last month. The Italians were not big fans of the Russians right now. So they weren’t exactly big fans of Sal. And, subsequently, Larry.

These were the nights that Larry wondered what he got himself into. He was too young for this. He was barely even an adult. He had been a student, a normal college kid, and in the span of just one night he was suddenly in the middle of one of the biggest crime wars on American soil. He was now a part of one of the biggest mafia families in the entire world.

His life was a terrifying joke.

“Head down.” Larry hissed as the elevator doors opened. He put his arm around Sal’s shoulders and they walked as fast as they could without seeming alarming. When they exited the hotel, the cold air blasted both of them. It was like a slap in the face. Sal instantly started to shiver, which only made Larry roll his eyes. “I told you to bring a jacket!”

“This isn’t the time, smartass!” Sal growled. “Just get me to the car.”

“Six o’clock.” Both of them said quietly in unison, both of them spotting the same guy at the same time. He was dressed all in black, just standing there. Completely still.

“Get into the car.” Larry slid Sal the keys quickly.

“Not without you.” Sal’s grip tightened on his arm.

“Don’t be a child.”

“Fuck you!”

The guy didn’t seem to hear them. If he did, he didn’t budge.

“You have to come with me, Larry.” His voice was suddenly small, childlike. Terrified.

Larry assumed he was thinking about what happened in New York. How Sal had to drive ahead while Larry distracted everyone else. How Larry got stabbed, leaving a chuck of hard, mangled scar tissue to sit on his stomach. How Larry showed up two days later at the meeting point, clothes bloodied and brain a scrambled mess.

“Nothing’s going to happen.” Larry softened his demeanor, just enough to have Sal’s grip loosen on his arm. “Get in the car.”

Sal did as he was told, getting into the passenger side seat while Larry stood on the curb and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. He stood there and pretended to fumble for a lighter, watching the mysterious man from the corner of his eye. He let out an overexaggerated sigh. “Hey, _compañero_. I forgot a lighter and my girlfriend will kill me if I take any longer. You got one?”

The guy finally moved, his eyes sliding slowly from the car to make contact with Larry’s. He paused for a moment before slowly reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small red lighter. Larry loosened his grip on his duffle bag and allowed the man to light his cigarette. “Thanks.” He took a few puffs before walking over to the side of the driver’s seat. He stomped out the cigarette before sliding in and motioning for Sal to pass him the keys. “Spider tattoo. Left wrist. We need to go.”

The GPS said three hours until the next hotel.

They could do that. They could survive three hours. It was longer than usual, but they could do it.

“I can’t wait until Daddy lets me start flying again.” Sal muttered. “Three hour drive? Who does he think I am.”

Larry rolled his eyes. “You’re a little shit.”

“Can I turn up the heat? I’m cold.”

“I fucking told you to bring a jacket.”

Sal was starting to pout. Larry could see it in his body language. “I didn’t want to.” He whined.

“What are you going to do? Tell your daddy I’m being mean?” There was a tone in Larry’s voice that made Sal sit up straight and cross his legs. It made Larry smirk. “We have three hours, Sal. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He didn’t respond. That meant that Larry had won.

The first hour passed quickly. Sal had stayed silent, most likely exhausted. But he occasionally would reach over and run his long claws over Larry’s check or the fabric of his pants. He would rest his hand on his thigh. He would draw circles on Larry’s arm with his fingers. He liked to touch and be touched.

It kept Larry grounded. It made his heart warm.

Towards the end of the first hour, Larry noticed that the black car behind them hadn’t moved. It stayed behind them, not too close but not too far, and it wasn’t changing lanes or planning an exit. It was there.

It was just there.

Larry put more pressure on the gas, inhaling deeply and glancing at his rearview mirror again and again and again. “We have a friend.”

Sal eyes darted to the side mirror. “Two. Motorcycle next to it.”

“Stay down. Stay buckled in. We’re going to go for a ride.”

And with that, he shifted the gears of the car and jumped up drastically in speed.

Sal jolted back against his seat, instinctively reaching to grip onto the handle on the ceiling. “Shit!”

Larry swerved the car into the far left lane, moving and weaving between the spare few cars that were still on the road this late into the night. Other cars started to honk, and he was just inches away from getting slammed into a concrete wall and obliterated. But he kept the car steady. All his training was paying off.

“Larry!” Sal said. “They’re speeding up.”

“We’re getting off the highway.” He said, his eyes moving around rapidly. There was an exit nearby. He decided to wait until the very last second to swing right and shoot their car up onto the normal roads. He ignored the red-light of the intersection and sped through it, grazing past a car that was attempting to cross. Sal started off on a long string of Russian curses, adjusting himself in his seat.

The GPS started to recalculate. Still two hours from the safehouse. Still too much time for things to go wrong.

And now the cars were behind them again.

“Duck!” Larry yelled, making such a sharp left that the driver’s-side tires left the ground and the car tilted. Sal let out a little scream, gripping onto his seat as a bullet cracked against the rear window, luckily caught by the bulletproof glass.

Sal leaned forward and opened the glove compartment, bouncing in his seat from the chaotic driving.

“Watch your head!” His eyes darted over to his smaller companion. “What are you even doing?!” He looked back at the road, quickly changing lanes to avoid hitting a minivan.

“Getting a gun!”

“What?!”

Sal pulled a handgun out and started to turn around.

“Oh, no! You aren’t going to do that!” Larry dared to let go of the wheel with one hand and grab onto Sal’s shirt. “You’re staying put, princess!” The car started to sway to the left, dangerously close to oncoming traffic.

“Fuck you!”

“You’re going to get yourself killed! Now sit down and shut up.” He yanked Sal’s shirt and pulled him back into the seat.

“Fine but I’m keeping the gun, you prick!” Another bullet smashed into the rearview glass. This time, it actually cracked.

“Down. _Now.”_ Larry’s voice was deep and dark as he shifted gears and made a sharp last-second turn to get back onto the highway. He was buzzing past cars, just barely missing out on potential accidents. It took thirty minutes for him to believe that they weren’t being followed anymore. And the rest of the drive was done at top speed, paranoia causing both boys to check the mirrors every few moments.

Sal reached over and gripped his sharp nails into Larry’s shirt. “Next time, let me shoot.”

“Fuck no.”

“We can talk about it later.”

“No talking. It’s done. You know you’re not supposed to.” Larry glanced over at the hand digging into his arm, noticing that it was trembling. “Hey. We’re safe, okay? It’s you and me. We’re fine.”

He just nodded.

They arrived at the hotel to little fanfare. A bellhop with a blue rose pin greeted them at the door and handed Sal a keycard. They exchanged quick words in Russian before Sal lead both of them to the elevators.

As soon as the metal doors closed, Sal leaned into Larry’s shoulder. “Nice driving, smartass.”

He didn’t respond. He just squeezed Sal’s waist, making him squeak.

The elevator opened. Larry exited first, looking both ways before allowing Sal to leave. “Come on. What number is it?”

“It’s right up here to the left.”

Larry turned to ask him something when he noticed a man exit a hotel room and start approaching them far too quickly. His walk turned into a run. And then he was almost on Sal.

Before Sal even realized what was going on, Larry shoved him out of the way and jumped at the man charging down the hall, grabbing his shirt and slamming him against the wall. He could see the knife in the man’s hands, and he jerked his hips back just in time to avoid a slash to his stomach.

And the next thing Larry knew, the man’s brains were smeared across the wall of the hotel hall. He let go of the man’s shirt. He tasted the other man’s blood on his lips. And he backed up to let the man’s body fall onto the carpet. His ears rang slightly, and he looked down at Sal’s hands to the pistol that he had forgotten Sal had been carrying. “Shit!”

Sal just tossed the handgun at Larry, who caught it in shaking hands. “I need to call the staff.”

Larry’s eyes moved between the guy and Sal’s back as he kept moving down the hall. “Nice shot.”

“You’re welcome. So like I said: next time, let me shoot.”

Sal unlocked the hotel door and entered their room. Larry followed, setting the gun down on the hotel desk and watching Sal walk to the hotel phone and pound on the operator number. Larry locked the door, and then put a chair in front of it. As soon as he did that, the body of the man was out of his mind. They were both too unaffected by death. It had been too long. They had seen to much. There was nothing left to flinch over.

“голубая роза.” Sal spoke low into the receiver. After a moment he turned to Larry and just waiting, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Sorry. I’m on hold.” Larry just rolled his eyes. After a moment, Sal perked up. “Yes. This is Sally. We made a mess on the seventh floor. Can you please come fix it? It’s in the hallway. Yes. Yes, yes. Thank you!” He hung up and turned around. “We’ll be fine.”

Larry just shook his head, incredulous.

“What?”

“You scare the absolute shit out of me.” Larry said in a low voice, something obvious living under the surface. Sal felt it, and he reached up into his wild curly hair to unbuckle the mask that was sitting there. It fell into his hands, revealing a scarred and tangled mass of flesh. He didn’t have an eyelid on one side, the side that housed his glass eye. He didn’t have a full nose. His teeth, artificial, where flawless, but were surrounded by broken lips that went out way too far and were way too crooked.

Larry didn’t even think twice about it. He didn’t think twice the first time he had seen Sal without the prosthetic. It had been an accident, when he first saw it. But he didn’t flinch or scream or anything. And Sal remembered that.

Sal tossed the mask onto the bed and rushed at Larry, perching at the highest point of his heeled boots to reach his soft, full lips. He kissed him hard, tangling his hands into his long brown ponytail and pulling Larry’s face into his.

Larry was more than happy to reciprocate, parting Sal’s lips with his tongue and taking in everything about him: his taste, his scent, his touch. Sal tasted like cigarettes and dynamite. Sal smelled like candy-sweet perfume and gunpowder. He felt like a Barbie doll, all harsh lines and sharp joints and strong, solid arms. He was a siren. He was made to make people love him, and Larry was certain of that. It was impossible to imagine a single person on the earth that couldn’t fall for Sal Fisher.

Larry pulled back, taking a second to look Sal in the eye. “I want to be with you.”

“We can’t.” Sal whispered, leaning in to initiate another passionate kiss. “We can’t do this.” He kept muttered over and over into Larry’s lips and he pushed closer and closer to him. Larry just fell back onto the wall, letting Sal take the lead.

“If we can’t, then stop.” Larry spoke between kisses

Sal just kissed him again. And again. And again.

Sal was right, though. They can’t. Since day one, they had known that. Since the first time Larry met Henry, with his dark suits and intimidating glares. Sal was engaged. He had been engaged since birth. It was tradition. It was a must. His marriage to some lovely little blonde boy would solidify peace between them and one of their greatest rival gangs from Germany. Sal had known this for years.

That didn’t seem to stop him from falling into Larry’s arms every single second he could, though. And it didn’t stop Larry from falling slowly and idiotically in love with this beautiful bird he could never cage.

Sal’s long nails ran over Larry’s dark skin, raising goosebumps and leaving behind timid scratches. Larry cursed under his breath, making Sal shiver. “I love it when you speak Spanish like that.”

“ _Créeme que sé.”_ He said. “But we need to go to bed, princess.” His amber eyes ran over Sal’s face, taking in every inch of him. “You look so exhausted.” They both were exhausted. They were slowly coming down from their adrenaline high, and the sleepy, heavy feeling was creeping behind their eyes. Larry reached up to cup Sal’s face. “Come on. Let’s rest.”

“I love you.” Sal said quietly, leaning into Larry’s warm touch. He placed his own hand over the other’s.

The way Sal looked at him under his lashes made his chest hurt. “I love you too. Take off your makeup. And take out your eye.”

“I will.” Sal nodded. “Would you brush my hair again?”

Larry nodded. “Of course.”

Sal crawled off the bed and locked himself in the bathroom. Larry did what he was supposed to as a guard: just sit on the bed and watch the door.

They had first met when Sal applied to be Larry’s roommate. He had moved into a new apartment to finish out his senior year of art school. It was a modest one, but it was a two-bedroom. So he took the opportunity to find himself a roommate. Lucky for him, the roommate ended up being an endlessly beautiful boy who showed up in a mini-skirt on the day he came to look at the place. It wasn’t every day that a Russian ballerina showed up in Chicago.

Larry really ended up liking Sal because of his sarcasm. His bitterness. His _anger._ He carried a weight around him that only seemed to break and disappear when Larry would make him laugh. Or when Larry would mindlessly touch him. Or when Larry did something as small as pass him the salt. Sal was obviously not used to kindness. Or attention. Or any positive concept, really.

Sal ended up leaving these far-too-expensive gifts in Larry’s room.  Where did he even get the money? He didn’t work, yet somehow had the ability to throw thousands of dollars at designer clothes for himself and now for Larry. He tried to give them back, especially after he would google the cost of the clothes or the shoes or the art supplies, but Sal refused. This was Sal’s way of paying him back for the kindness. But he didn’t have to pay him back. Larry just wanted to be nice to him. Larry just wanted to show him kindness.

It didn’t take long for Larry to develop a little crush.

It also didn’t take long for a famous crime family to find Sal.

Their apartment was broken into late, close to midnight. Larry didn’t hear the window shatter, but he did hear Sal screaming and jumped out of bed in nothing but his boxers to see what was wrong. He walked in on Sal, laying on the bed, with hands around his throat. Some man in all black was above him, slowly but surely trying to take the life out of him.

Larry doesn’t even remember doing it. But he had thrown the guy off of Sal, and managed to land a few punches that left the guy down for the count.

When he turned around, there was Sal standing in the doorway, a pistol in his hands, pointing it right at Larry. “Are you with them? Was this a part of some plan?” He said in a shaking voice. His mask was on his bedside table, which meant that Larry could see exactly how terrified he was.

It took an hour of Sal pointing a gun at Larry for him to finally calm down.

And then they ran, hopping into Larry’s beaten-up old red truck and driving to whatever obscure address Sal gave him. The entire car ride had Sal screaming into a cellphone in Russian while leading Larry to some obscure location in the outskirts of the state. Which is where he had met Henry. And where he had been given a choice: join the family as Sal’s bodyguard, or be under their supervision for the rest of his life. He glanced over at Sal, and it only took one pleading look for him end up, somehow, impulsively saying yes.

He went through boot camp first. It was quick, it was exhausting, it was a nightmare. But he learned how to shoot a gun. And drive like a NASCAR racer. It turns out he was a natural.

It also turns out that Sal and him would never be able to spend longer than ten minutes out of each other’s sight. Not that they wanted to be. It only took then a handful of weeks to end up falling together, arms outstretched, clutching onto each other for dear life. According to Sal, this was common. Bodyguards and their wards would grow extremely attached. It was like the perfect pet. The perfect companion.

Sal didn’t say if it was normal to fall for them. Or sleep with them. Not that it would stop them now.

Sal stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but his panties and fishnets, face clean and eyes sleepy. Larry couldn’t help but run his eyes down Sal’s body, taking in every curve of muscle. He instinctively tossed Sal one of his shirts, which he caught and slipped on effortlessly. “Hurry up and change. I want to sleep.” He tossed a hairbrush onto the bed. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re so spoiled.” He rolled his eyes and dragged himself out of the bed, shedding his leather jacket and button up and jeans. He stood there for a moment in just his boxers, back turned to Sal. He could feel the ice blue piercing gaze running down his back. “Stop being gross. It’s bedtime.”

He could hear Sal huff in annoyance.

They joined each other on the bed, Larry taking his place behind Sal. He brushed his hair gently, starting at the bottom and working his way up. Sal’s hair was messy, curly and beautiful. It was soft, one of a kind. Larry barely could resist sticking his nose in it to drown in the scent of roses and fire.

When Sal’s hair became more manageable, he started to run his fingers through it, working from the scalp to the ends. His hands moved to the back of Sal’s neck, rubbing gentle circles, making him arch his back and sigh. “I was scared tonight, Sal.” He whispered. He leaning in close to brush his lips again Sal’s ear. “Whenever you pull that stupid shit, I get scared. I can’t lose you.” Larry wrapped his arms around Sal and buried his face into his neck.

“You won’t lose me. I’m too smart for them.” Sal leaned into the touch. His body was starting to go limp, so Larry leaned back and dropped them both gently onto the pillows. He didn’t let go of Sal. If anything, he pulled him closer. He liked feeling Sal’s muscles against his skin. It made his think of countless ballet classes he sat through, watching Sal be this powerful, graceful ghost.

“Are you excited? For the trip?” He whispered.

“It’s not for a few months.” Larry chuckled.

“Well, yeah. But still.”

“It’s all I can think about. I’m terrified. I’ve never been out of the country before.” Larry nuzzled closer. Too close would never be close enough.

“I’ll be there.” Sal whispered. “I’ll be there for you.”

“But I’m going literally because it's my job to be there for _you.”_

Sal let out a content sigh. “I like it when you say that. You're only here for me.”

"I'm only on this planet for you."

Larry felt Sal's body slowly go soft as he slowly drifted off to sleep. It was the only time where Sal didn't carry tension in every muscle he had. He lay there, just listening to Sal’s breathing. Each breath was calming. It was a reminder that they lived another day. Not every day was dangerous. Not every day was a risk. But this day was. And Larry just wanted to be reminded that Sal was _here._ Alive. In his arms.

“ _Mi azulejo.”_ He whispered into Sal’s cold skin, gently placing chaste kisses against his shoulder. After a few more moments of holding on to Sal like a desperate child, Larry finally started to drift off into a peaceful slumber.

He never got to sleep for long. He never really got to rest. When he did, it was always with Sal. And it cleansed him.


	2. Part

**Amour Dangeruex**

**Part Two**

“Hey, smartass.”

Larry turned around. His brain stopped working when his amber eyes landed on Sal, adorned with jewels and truly dripping with diamonds. He was in a silver dress, backless and low and exposing, with a high slit on his leg and a long slowly train. The entire dress seemed to be made of crystals. His hair was piled on his head into a flowery bun, with diamond clips and silver chains dancing all over it. He had a thick necklace and silver cuffs on his wrists. He looked like he owned the entire earth.

“Shit…” was all Larry managed to say. “You look…shit.”

Sal’s head jerked back. “Excuse me?”

“No, no! I just…fuck. You look so good I literally forgot how to speak.” Larry reached up and tightened his tie. “You’re beautiful _. Eres un tesoro_.”

Sal walked over gracefully, the sound of his heels echoing on the floor of the large marble room. His ornate appearance matched the room perfectly. They were at the Fisher family’s private estate, their gaudy mansion in the outskirts of St. Petersburg. And the entire place was simply too much for Larry to handle. It was his first time out of the country, and it was in the most expensive building he could have potentially imagined. Sal’s private bathtub was solid gold. How was that even possible?

When Sal was close to him, he reached one hand up to slide across the lapel of his suit. “You don’t look half-bad yourself.”

Larry leaned a bit closer. “Can you…lift the mask? I want to kiss you.”

“My fiancé will be here soon.” Sal responded breathily. “And my hair is done. So no.”

Larry felt a pang in his chest. “Do I have to meet him?”

Sal nodded. “Yes. You will. You’ll meet him and a few other very important people tonight.” His hand moved from Larry’s chest to his face. “I wish you were my escort instead of that bastard.”

Larry leaned into the touch. “This gala is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”

“Without a single doubt.” Sal pressed his cold, artificial forehead to Larry’s. “But afterwards? I’m all yours again.”

“When are you going to marry that asshole?” Larry brought his hands to rest on Sal’s waist, feeling his muscle shift under his hands.

“Age twenty two. Literally right on my birthday. So-“

“I only have a year and a half to convince your family that I’m more worth it then a rich little boy?” He chuckled.

“So I only have a year and a half to enjoy with you.” Sal said it with a tone of finality. He traced a nail across Larry’s lips. “I want every second to count.”

“Then let me kiss you.”

“Travis is on his way-“

“Kiss me, princess.” Larry pulled Sal’s hips against his. “Please.”

Sal unbuckled the bottom of his mask and lifted it just enough to allow Larry to slip in and capture his lips with his own. It was light, chaste, barely a whisper of contact. But it was everything Larry needed to survive the next few hours.

Travis Phelps might own his hand in marriage. But Larry Johnson owned Sal’s heart.

For once, Larry didn’t have to drive them anywhere. Instead, he had to sit in the front seat next to the driver in a completely different car, just ahead of Sal and Travis. He tried to remain inconspicuous, but it was hard not to fidget and glance over his shoulder, hoping to glimpse some kind of image of Sal. After having to watch him non-stop for over a year, it was hard to imagine having him nearby but out of sight. He wasn’t used to it.

Not only this, but the fact that Sal was draped all over Travis in the backseat was making his fists itch with the desire to hurt someone. Sal hadn’t overexaggerated when telling stories of Travis. Sal was overdramatic and hyperbolic all the time, but not with this. And that terrified Larry. Travis had shown up, tall and blonde and handsome and dark-skinned, and for just a moment Larry felt nervous. He felt like maybe Sal had been playing with his heart, especially after seeing how Sal ran up to him and hugged him like _that._

But very quickly Larry realized that Sal was just trying to survive.

Travis started to neg Sal from the first sentence. He started to pick and tease him, instantly falling into a pattern of passive-aggressive jabs and squeezes. They fluctuated from giggling and smiling and flirting into anger and tension. It was deeply uncomfortable to watch. There was no love. Only a forced physical affection and the obvious bond from being raised around each other.

Larry didn’t get to meet Travis personally. Not yet. He had to stay far back with the other members of the workforce, shivering in the snow while watching the lovebirds bitterly clamber into the back of an exquisite black car.

He had to do the same thing on the steps outside the gala. Standing in the cold watching the love of his life walk in on another man’s arm wasn’t how he wanted to spend his evening. He was in a line of other guards, and the one next to him was a girl with short brown hair who was _extremely_ talkative.

“So that one is yours, then?” She spoke in a little southern accent, pointing at Sal with her eyes. She whistled quietly, which made Larry chuckle. "He's quite the beauty." She reached over to shake his hand. "Ashley Campbell."

"Larry Johnson." He shook it. “How did you guess that he was mine?”

“The way you’re looking at him. You too?”

“What?

“That one is mine.” Ashley said. “Look at her.” A girl with silver hair dressed in black was on the stairs, talking to Sal. She looked gorgeous, endlessly so, and she had a man on her arm who was looking at her like she hung the moon.

“Who is she? In, like, relation to everyone.”

“Maple is Sal’s cousin.” She whispered. “She’s getting married in a few months.” She smiled sadly. “But that’s how it goes, doesn’t it? They’re all so perfect. And we get so attached. And then they’re gone.”

“Gone?” He raised his brow.

She nodded. “Gone. Not like we can stay with them once they’re married.”

A flare of panic rose up in Larry’s chest. “Why not?”

She looked up at him. “Family guards. We get sent away with a pension and a smile. They move on and make babies and get new guards."

“Shit.” He muttered. “I never thought about that. Like I knew. But I didn’t know. Fuck.” He looked at his feet and felt the shadows of tears starting to form in his amber eyes.

“You really love him.” Ashley’s eyes widened. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Good luck to you, Larry.” She chuckled. “It only gets worse.”

It only gets worse? How? It was already torture. He was aware all the time that Sal was going to leave. It was painful all the time. But it burned the worst in this moment. Maybe it was only torture right now because truly this was the only time that Larry had to know, visibly, that Sal was not going to be his. And it was worse than any stab wound.

Sal’s hand around Travis’ arm was an image that Larry hated more than anything in the world.

“Having fun yet?” Sal cornered Larry in a hallway towards the beginning of the dinner.

Larry shook his head. “Fuck no. Standing by a wall and watching you get it on isn’t exactly what I want to do with my night.” He couldn’t help but grin when talking to Sal, though.

“Well, Daddy invited you to sit with us. And take an hour off duty.” Sal giggled. "So we don't have to be apart for too long."

That was unexpected. “Wait. Really?”

“Really.” Sal nodded eagerly. “I think that we should-“

“You ran away so soon, darling.” A tall blonde man with dark skin appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

The fiancé was back. And Larry’s smile fell instantly. Sal noticed the change in tone and moved to grab onto Travis’ arm, pressing his chest against him and looking up at him like he was the only one in the room. It made Larry want to punch Travis’ lights out.

“Travey, I’m sure you’ve heard of Mr. Johnson.” Sal slipped a look at Larry out of the corner of his eye.

“Of course I have. You’re the man who’s been keeping my fiancé alive. How could I not know of you?” Travis reached out a hand to shake Larry’s. “Why, in a suit like that you could almost pass for a real gentleman.”

Larry smiled tightly and took Travis’ hand, shaking it with an iron grip. _I’m fucking your fiancé, you bastard._ “The pleasure is mine, Mr. Phelps.”

“I’m still surprised they just let any old broke drop-out be a guard nowadays.”

Sal noticed the tension in Larry’s hand and quickly turned to run a sharp finger over Travis’ face in a sultry manor, distracting him instantly. “Come along, dear. They’ll be seating us soon. Daddy is letting Mr. Johnson join us for dinner. You all have all the time in the world to catch up.”

“That sounds…wonderful. Well, come along, Johnson.” Travis said with an edge in his voice. He turned and took Sal with him. Larry’s eyes trailed over Sal’s exposed back and long, shimmering train and as tailed them to the table. Sal’s back muscles looked delicious in a dress like that. Larry felt his heartbeat skipping. Sal turned over his shoulder, passing a fleeting glance towards him.

They all sat at the table, seated next to their respective partners. Travis pulled Sal to the opposite side of the table by Henry, leaving Larry between two older women he had never seen before in his life. They seemed very interested in him, though.

“Tell us what your living arrangements were before you joined with us, Johnson.” One said once the meal began, pushing around the caviar on her plate.

“Quite good, actually. Hardly a single rat.” Larry joked back, making her giggle.

Sal was watching him closely, overexaggerating his manners as a signal for Larry to follow suit.

“I’m actually quite honored Johnson is joining us tonight. He’s been of some assistance to my fiancé as of late.” Travis said. His tone of voice told a different story than his words.

“If ‘assistance’ is what you call saving my life, I would like to see what you consider ‘honorable work’.” Sal said it with a smile but his grip on his wine glass got much, much tighter. Travis reached under the table and gripped tightly onto Sal’s exposed leg. Larry couldn’t see it, but he knew it. He knew in the way Sal tensed up. He saw it in the falsehood of Travis’ smiles.

“Any caviar for you, sir?” A waiter leaned over Larry, presenting him with a bowl of something that looked and smelled like it belonged in the bottomless pits of sewage that it definitely came from.

“No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much.” Larry shot a look to Sal, who had giggled at that comment.

“And where exactly did you call home before us, Johnson?” Henry asked.

Larry thought for a moment. “Well, you see, this little town called Nockfell is my real home. But when I met Sal – um, Mr. Fisher – I was in Chicago. And now I’m wherever Mr. Fisher wants to go. Or wherever we need to go. I don’t really care about where I call home anymore. I just care about,” he looked at Sal, “my job. And I try to make each day a piece of home now. Because I never know when a bullet is going to scramble my brains. So I’ve learned to take life as it comes at me. And make every little thing mean something. To…make it count.”

Sal raised his wine glass. “To making it count.”

“Here, here.” Henry said, and the table echoed. Larry lifted up his cup of ice water with a crooked grin.

“All life is just a game of luck.” Said one of the old partners of the strange women.

“Real men make their own luck. Right, Johnson?” Travis’ voice remained pleasant, but something disturbing dripped from it.

Larry nodded, in the process of destroying a dinner roll by ripping it into pieces and only eating the fluffy middle. “Right. I do it every single day.” He felt a surge of boldness. “Back in Spain, where my father was from? They don’t have bluebirds. When he moved to America, that was the first bird he ever saw here. And he considered that to be a sign. He used bluebirds to symbolize good luck and a bright future. And now I consider Sal to be that symbol to me. A little good luck charm. _Mi azulejo.”_

Travis’ smile finally cracked. He looked like he could jump across the table at any moment. Sal took the opportunity to chug his wine and finish the glass. He grabbed Travis’ and polished that one off too.

“I’m glad that my son has opened so many doors for you.” Henry nodded, his eyes sliding slowly over to Sal, who was now reaching over to snatch the wine glass of the poor man sitting next to Travis.

The rest of the dinner was just as toxic. Lots of passive aggressive comments. Lots of not-so-subtle stares. Everyone but Sal, Travis and Larry seemed oblivious to it. Or used to it. One of those. Larry couldn’t tell which one was worse. 

Henry finally dismissed him around an hour later, much to Travis’ joy and Sal’s chagrin. But Larry didn’t get far before Travis followed him pulled him into a side hallway.

“How _dare_ you.” Travis hissed at him.

Larry looked down at him, courage buzzing inside his chest. “How dare I what? How dare _you_ distract a guard from his duty.”

  
“Don’t play games with me, Johnson. I could have you killed in an instant, you know that, yes? And not a soul would miss you.” His eyes narrowed. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Yes, you do. You were holding their hand earlier.” Larry smirked. “And what are you going to do about it, blondie?”

Travis pulled his arm back to swing a punch, but a strong pale hand stopped him head in his tracks. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but you do _not_ lay a finger on my guard!” Sal hissed, digging his sharp nails into Travis’ arm, making him yelp.

He jerked back, holding his arm. “Did you just _stab me_ with your nails?” He moved his hand to reveal little dark spots forming in torn suit fabric.

“Your nails are knives?!” Larry balked, staring with slack jaw at the blood dripping off Sal’s nails.

“Well, duh!”  Sal waved his hands. “What, you think I just like looking like some kind of cheap secretary?!” He pointed at Larry. “You, stop starting shit. And you!” He turned to Travis. “You are better than fighting a guard and you know that. Fuck _off.”_

“I’m never letting those near my dick again.” Larry mumbled, still staring at Sal’s fingers.

Travis stalked forward, getting into Sal’s face. “Don’t even get me _started_ with you, slut-“

“I’m going to have to ask you to back the fuck up, or I’m going to deck you right in the eye.” Larry put his arm in front of Sal, barring him from the other’s advance. “And you don’t want Henry to find out that you’re threatening his beloved kid, do you, Mr. Phelps?”

Shaking in anger, Travis stomped off. He didn’t even stay to say anything sarcastic, or even give a single glare. He just left.

That was somehow more terrifying.

Sal turned to Larry and crossed his arms. “You’re being a dick.”

“I saw the way he treated you at dinner.” Larry leaned close. “Princess, are you okay?” His voice was laced with genuine concern. “Baby, I can’t sit by and watch that. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot him.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Sal snapped. “Come on. Let’s go.” He turned around and started to walk back to the party. “They’re going to start dancing soon. Come on.”

The first dance came and went. Sal and Travis danced together. Travis' sleeves were rolled up, and the dark spot on his jacket was still visible. And he was not happy at all. He gripped onto Sal too tightly, and got much too close to his face. They were too far away for Larry to hear them over the classical music, but Larry saw the dancing ending in a fight and Travis pouting and leaving like a child. Sal stood there fuming before frantically searching the wall from Larry and rushing over.

“What’s wrong?” Larry asked.

“May I have this dance?” He held his hand out to Larry.

“We can’t.” He said. 

“We can because I said we can.” He reaches down and grabbed Larry’s hand, starting to drag him onto the dance floor.

“You’re going to get in trouble.” He hissed.

“I hope so.” He pulled Larry close to his chest and started to move him across the dance floor. He put one hand on Larry’s shoulder, and clutched the other one tightly. Larry’s hands moved to his hips, holding him tightly.

“I don’t know how to dance, princess.”

“Follow me, then.”

Larry did. He kept his eyes on Sal’s they moved through the crowds of people. “People are staring.” He whispered.

“Let them. You’re handsome.” Sal said. “And maybe Travis will know not to be a dick to you next time.”

Larry pulled him closer. “Yeah. Maybe he’ll just leave. And then we can just dance forever.”

They actually didn’t get to dance for long before the large hand of Henry Fisher was placed on Larry’s shoulder. “Don’t flitch. I’m not here to care about that.” He said in a low voice. “I need you to follow me out of the room quickly. Now.”

He did exactly that, with Sal leading the way and trying to grab onto his father’s jacket. “Daddy, what’s wrong? Is this about Travis? He-“

“Заткнись.” Henry shouted and grabbed Sal’s wrist so hard it made him whimper. Larry jerked to attention. His hands were itching to punch. Henry dragged him into the hall and stopped with both of them when they were alone. “Get Sally out of here.” He pushed Sal into Larry’s arms. “It’s not safe. Take him wherever he wants. Just get him to the plane and out of Russia.”

Sal gripped onto the front of Larry’s jacket, pressed against him with shaking hands. “What’s going on?”

“There’s an assassin. Here. One of us has turned and we don’t know who. We need to get you to safety. Johnson, go.” He tossed a key at him. “There’s a bike out back.”

“Yes, sir.” Larry nodded. He grabbed Sal’s shoulders and turned him around to guide him. “Come on, princess.” He whispered. “Let’s get you out of here.” He didn't think twice before starting to drag Sal away. His pulse was already racing. "I don't know if you can run in those heels, but the faster the better."

“Who the fuck would turn on us?” Sal hissed.

“We can worry about that later. We need you safe right now.”

He rushed them down the stairs, the sounds of cheering and music echoing through empty halls. They busted out the backdoor of the venue into the snowy world, cold air blasting both of them and burning their skin.

“Fuck. Riding is going to suck.” Larry grumbled. “Take my coat.”

“No. You need it. Just get me to the fucking airport. I want another drink.” Sal started over to the bike before pausing. “Wait! I can’t ride in this.” He jabbed his nails into his dress and ripped along the bottom of it, freeing his legs from the gown and spraying glittery stones across the floor. He tossed the spare fabric aside and then propped his hands on his hips. “Let’s ride.”

Larry couldn’t help but laugh. “How fucking expensive was that dress?”

“It could have probably fed a small country.” Sal jumped onto the back of the motorcycle and clutched his chest against Larry’s back. “But I think this is a little more important.”

“You’re so spoiled.”

“But you love me.” He pulled him closer.

He rolled his eyes and revved the engine of the bike, pulling away from the curb. “Yeah. Fuck you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last part will be out on Valentine's Day! Enjoy! :D

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my little Valentine's Day surprise for everyone who likes reading what I write. I hope you all enjoy this little mafia AU! The second part will be out Monday and the final part on Valentine's Day! Enjoy!


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